


All Tied Up

by Shooting_Starz



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, John is a tease, Light BDSM, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, What Have I Done, straight up porn, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 00:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17612171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shooting_Starz/pseuds/Shooting_Starz
Summary: “Too bad it’s never fun getting tied up.” you smiled up at him.He let out a puff of air, then he snapped his head up slightly, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Eyes going darker, hungry. You knew that look.





	All Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the very first piece of fiction I have wrote in about 7 years, so sorry in advance.   
> Also the first smut I've ever wrote. Once again - sorry in advance.
> 
> I'm going to hell for this aren't I?

You laid your head back on the edge of the large, ornate saloon bathtub allowing all the aches and pains from your harrowing past few days fade into the warm, sudsy water. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a proper bath outside of a quick dunk in whatever waterbody happen to be handy.

You closed your eyes and allowed your mind to run blank and let your guard down for a few minutes. Moments like this made the daydreaming of a so-called ‘normal’ life come more vividly. A small ranch house with one of those wrap-around decks, a big red hip-roofed barn and corrals housing a handful of cows and horses nestled at the foot of the mountains. Sinking deeper into the tub with only your head and rope burnt wrists above the waterline, you could almost feel yourself mulling about your imaginary ranch tending to your large garden without a worry about bounty hunters or some Pinkerton assholes barging in and ruining your day.

A sharp rap of knuckles on the door snapped you out of your daydream. Reflex had you sitting up straight as a board, eyes boring a hole through the door and hand ghosting towards your revolver on the floor next to the tub. “Yeah?” you called out.

“Sorry miss,” a sheepish female voice answered from the other side of the door, “But we have other patrons who require the bath.”

You let your head hit the back to the tub with a thud, definitely not ready to face the world just yet. “Kay, I’ll be out in a minute.” You sigh as you pull yourself up out of the cooling bath. You look down at your clean body and back to the dirty bath water, wrinkling your nose.

_ At least the river washes away your filth. _ You think with a snort.

Pulling on a clean set of clothes, you carried your boots and gun belt to the room you rented for the night. Closing the door you toss your boots to the side and set your gun belt on the table next to John’s.

The two of you left camp going on 6 days ago now. You were just going out to follow up on a lead Trelawny had about a stagecoach that was supposed to be carrying a good haul with no security.

He had been right about the haul part of it.

On the getaway, your green broke horse took to bucking with the gunfire and left you staring down the barrel of a lawman’s shotgun. John sprung you that night from your captors, killing them and taking off in the opposite direction of camp to let things cool down before heading back. After a few days of roughing it, figuring you weren’t followed, you talked John into getting a bath and spending a night in a real bed in some one horse town that by the sounds of it had never heard of Dutch Van der Linde.

“How was the bath?” John rasped from where he sat on the bed smoking a cigarette.

“Feel like a whole new woman.” you replied as you dug through your satchel for some more bandaging and a salve for your wrists. You were only tied up for a day, but your insistent attempts at escape had left your wrists raw and angry. “Can’t wait to sleep in an actual bed too.”

“Not one for roughing it are ya.” John teased as you sat next to him on the bed.

You bumped him playfully with your shoulder as you began working on your wrists. “Only when I’m injured and traumatized by some lawmen for being caught up with a wild outlaw such as yourself.”

A strong arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into John’s broad chest. You felt his breath on the top of your head, followed by a kiss. “Sorry.” he murmured as he nuzzled into your damp hair. You closed your eyes and settled into the crook of his neck.

“Ain’t your fault Trelawny’s information wasn’t no good ‘n I wanted to get some miles on that horse.” you excused, placing a small kiss on his neck near his adam’s apple. You grinned at the small shiver you felt go through him. “Don’t beat yourself up over other’s stupidity.”

“But I’m used to bein’ the stupid one.” he mumbled as he squeezed you into him. You sat like this for some time, revelling in post-bath relaxation and the unexpected cuddle from the usually standoffish outlaw. “My bath’s prolly ready now though.”

“Oh good!” You exclaimed cheerily, sitting up straight and laying it on a bit thick trying to lighten the mood, “After leanin’ on ya I’m bout ready for another.” you elbowed him in between the ribs where you knew he was ticklish.

“Hey now!” he untangled himself from you and gave a light backhand to your shoulder.

“Don’t drown in there, it’s a pretty deep tub!”

He left the room muttering something under his breath and you began rubbing salve into your wounds. By the time you had them all bandaged up, John was already back from his bath. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black jeans that had a new rip in the knee from your misadventures, suspenders hung loosely from his hips. He didn’t bother fixing his pant legs after pulling on his boots as they were bunched halfway up his calves. He held his shirt balled up in his fist at his side. Your gaze moved up to his lean, but muscled abdomen, lingering a bit on his defined abs. You bit your bottom lip subtly as he ran his free hand through his long black hair. His chest, while broad for his lean body, had defined pectorals that led into strong, scared arms, tanned and weathered from living outside. If his metabolism wasn’t so fast for the amount of food the man could eat, he’d be a bear of a man like Arthur or Bill. Warmth pooled inside you, fighting the urge to tackle him and do unspeakable things to him.

“You didn’t drown!” You snickered, trying to hide the fact you were just eye fucking him.

He grinned, dark blue eyes glinting through his mess of wet black hair, “Unlucky you huh.” he rasped, tossing his shirt to the side. You shifted in your seat on the bed, trying to calm the fire inside yourself. “How’s the wrists?” he asked closing the distance between you.

“Oh, I’ll live I s’pose.” you lifted your bandaged wrists in front of you, giving them a quick twist, showing John your bandage job. He took your small hands in his big ones, his thumbs running up to the edge of the bandages. Your eyes met his, sadness, maybe a bit of regret crossing his face before he looked back down. “Too bad it’s never fun getting tied up.” you smiled up at him, intertwining your fingers with his.

He let out a puff of air, then he snapped his head up slightly, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Eyes going darker, hungry. You knew that look. 

You stood up off the bed, lips meeting his. He returned the kiss, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he deepened the kiss, tongue running along your bottom lip. Your hands ran up his arms slowly, one running through the dark hair on chest, soft from his bath, while the other looped around his neck. His hands found their way to your waist, tugging you closer. You slipped one leg between his, pushing your thigh softly into the tent pitching itself in his pants. That elicited a groan from him that stoked the fire burning deep in your belly.

His hands slipped under your shirt, calloused hands roaming up to your breasts. You pulled away from him slightly, lifting your arms so he could pull it off over your head. He wrapped his arms around you and laid you down on the bed, crawling over you, knees on either side of your hips. He dipped down to kiss you one more time before moving down to nip and kiss at your neck. A calloused thumb moved up to your nipple, flicking over it quickly making you to moan and buck your hips up in need. John chuckled into the crook of your neck as your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers twining into his hair holding him where he was driving you crazy.

“Wanna have some fun?” he breathed into your ear, teeth grazing the outer edge.

“This not fun enough for ya Marston?” you all but moaned when he bit down under your ear, following with a kiss. Your hips bucked up into his, pulling a deep moan from him. 

Things with John were always fast and teasing and needy - not that you ever complained about it, you were usually in the same boat. You two were never able to satisfy this need in camp, always having to wait for a job to sneak off together. 

He pulled back enough to look into your eyes, they were dark with lust, but dancing with a mischievous glint. A hand went to his back pocket, pulling out his black neckerchief. “Gimme your hands, sweetheart.” He dipped down, capturing your lips with his as you untangled your fingers from his hair and placed them on his chest, fingers exploring. “Ya don’t like this, just say so.” he rasped sexily before kissing you again. Big, strong, calloused hands wrapped around your forearms, pinning them above your head. He sat up, turning his attention to your arms. He wrapped the bandana around your wrists, just below the bandages, then tied it off to one of the dowels on the headboard.

John sat back on his heels over your hips admiring his handiwork. You laid under him, in nothing but your trousers, hands tied above your head. You looked back as far as you could to the headboard as you tested your restraints. The neckerchief didn’t bite into your skin at all, but was still tight enough that it would be a struggle to get yourself loose. John’s hands palmed at your breasts, bringing your attention back to him. Dark, lust filled eyes searched yours, gauging your reaction to being trussed up underneath him. You bit your bottom lip and rolled your hips up to meet his without breaking eye contact with him. A devilish grin took over his face as he dove down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You moaned and writhed as he sucked and flicked your nipples with his tongue, each touch tingling in your sex. His hands slowly slid down your sides and began working at the front of your pants. With his thumbs hooked in your waistband, he slowly pulled down the offending garment. He licked and kissed his way down your torso as he slowly removed your pants.

Your hips bucked as his hands ran back up your legs to meet his mouth where he was terrorizing the sensitive skin below your belly button. Laying between your legs, his fingers spread out across the front of your hips holding you still while he danced around with his mouth, purposely ignoring where you wanted him to touch the most, moving to nip and kiss your inner thigh. “See why ya wanted me tied up now.” You growled at him, trying to shimmy out of his grip to get a bit of the friction you desperately needed.

“Dunno what yer talkin’ bout darlin’.” he knew exactly what you were talking about. That was the thing about John, he teased you mercilessly - you were sure everyone in camp figured you hated each other with how you two got to bickering everyday, usually ending with you chucking whatever was close by at his head - but that was a part of his charm. He was no different in bed when he wanted to be.

You growled, trying to buck your hips up to his face that was oh so close, but he was too strong, his fingers gripping tighter to hold you still. “John,” you whined, arching your back, his torment driving you crazy.

“Whatcha want hun?” he rasped into your thigh.

“P-please don’t make me beg-” you breathed

“No need to beg,” he lifted his head, cocked to one side looking at you, barely under control by the looks of the fire burning in his eyes. “Just need to know whatcha want.” One hand began drifting down to the apex of your thighs, resting just above your sex. John just sat there with a shit eating grin watching you writhe and curse under your breath.

“Goddamnit John Marston!” You moaned, head back pulling at your restraint, “I swear to god if you don’t touch me right now I’ll-” you cut yourself off with a loud moan as John’s hand brushed against your folds, thumb moving in slow circles pressing against your clit.

“Gonna have to gag ya too if you can’t keep it down.” He murmured into your chest, “Wake up the whole town.” He took a nipple into his mouth once again flicking with his tongue, knowing how it drove you crazy. You bit your lip writhing uncontrollably under John’s ministrations, wanting nothing more than to grab him by that still damp black hair and crash your lips into his and take control of the situation. Blue eyes sparked devilishly as you felt a long finger at your entrance. You were a mess of moans and whispered curses as you rolled your hips impatiently.

You fucked yourself on his fingers, John navigating to that spot inside you that brought you closer and closer to release with every thrust of your hips. 

“You’re so goddamn wet for me hun,” he murmured, adding a second finger. “Atta girl.” he cooed, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. With your head lulled back into the bed, your arms pulling against the neckerchief keeping them above your head, your back arching off the bed, your breathing ragged, uneven, needy and when your eyes squeezed tight on the brink of your release, he left. No contact.

“Fuck!” you screamed, snapping your head up so fast hair fell in front of your face, but you didn’t care. “The fuck you doing Marston?” you asked breathless, your chest heaving trying to catch your breath. You hoped your glare at the man kneeling back on his heels grinning that shit eating grin at you from between your legs would be enough to kill him right there.

The fucker just chuckled.

“That-“ he pointed at you while undoing his pants, “is for all the drowning Marston jokes.”

“Well if you’d only learn to sw-“ He growled before capturing your lips with his, tongue flicking against yours. He had one hand gripped tightly in your hair, and you felt the other move down to position himself, the tip of his hard cock rubbing at your entrance. You moaned and bucked your hips, only for him to pull away.

“John-“ you whined. He chuckled, doing it again, propped up on his elbow watching you in amusement. “Please John, please” you breathed as he teased your entrance once more. “I need it… Please.” He responded by pulling your head up to meet his with his fingers still tangled tightly in your hair and angling his mouth over yours, silencing your mumbled curses momentarily. With his tongue in your mouth he finally snapped his hips forward. You both moaned as he entered you.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your eyes slid shut and you revelled in the feeling of him finally inside you. He stilled when his hips met yours, pushing himself up on his knees, hands on your hips bringing you up with him. Your shoulders dug hard into the bed as he hooked your knees over his arms, but you were too focused on the need building back inside you to care too much about your uncomfortable position.

John set into a fast, needy rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, grunting with the effort. Each thrust pushing you further into the bed. His fingers dug into your hips so tightly you thought for sure you’d have bruises later. 

It wasn’t long before you were a writhing, moaning mess, your orgasm building up again quickly. John hiked one leg up over his shoulder, somehow opening you up for him to get even deeper. He leaned closer into you, almost folding you onto yourself. This new ache in your body only amplified your pleasure as he hit that bundle of nerves inside you now with each and every thrust. Breathless, dirty words of encouragement met your ears as his newly freed hand quickly found its way to your clit, eliciting a loud, strangled moan from you.

“Your so goddamn sexy,” he growled, you could only moan in response, head too clouded with pleasure to remember how words worked. You were lost in your lust when you felt a hand wrap around your throat and squeeze. 

Your eyes shot open, meeting John’s. His dark, damp hair falling down in tendrils and sticking to the sheen of sweat on his brow. His chapped, kiss swollen lips were parted, allowing quick, ragged pants through. Dark with lust and lost with pleasure, his deep blue eyes met yours as he squeezed your neck a bit tighter. “Cum for me.” he commanded in a deep, breathless, pleasure-filled rasp.

“F-f-fuck, Marston!” you screamed as you tipped over the edge. The room went black and felt nothing but your own pleasure as your orgasm rocked your entire quivering body. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as your walls tightened around him, giving one, two, three more hard thrusts before pulling out, moaning your name. He collapsed, half on top of you and rolled to your side as you came down off your high together.    


You laid with your eyes closed trying to catch your breath when you felt a tug on your wrists and the soft silk of the neckerchief sliding away. You lowered your arms, feeling John pull you into his chest, kissing your forehead sweetly. Nuzzling into him, your breathing began to even out and you smiled.

“I guess getting tied up can be pretty fun.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Was anyone else super pumped to learn John's backstory in RDR2? Or was that just me?   
> I loved John Marston in 2010, and I love him now.


End file.
